


Corvus pica

by snoozingkitten



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: 2009 Stanley Cup Playoffs, M/M, wing fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:54:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24481582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snoozingkitten/pseuds/snoozingkitten
Summary: The middle of what feels like a promising post season is not the ideal time to get distracted by the coy flash of snowy white scapular feathers
Relationships: Sidney Crosby/Evgeni Malkin
Comments: 22
Kudos: 85
Collections: The 2020 Sid/Geno Exchange





	Corvus pica

**Author's Note:**

  * For [goodnightpuckbunny](https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodnightpuckbunny/gifts).



The rare time Sidney is on the bench without his linemates, it was a real treat to watch Geno play. The constant urge to be out there next to him sang in the back of his mind, utterly drowned out by the breathtaking display of speed and power that had him riveted. His whole focus was always the game, the next play, the ice -Geno. He was like a magnet dragging his focus helplessly back. 

Geno entered the playoffs like he had something he needed to prove to the world. He _was_ doing it play by play and shot by shot, building something breathtaking. The thing was they just kept winning, every game was a hard-fought battle and Sidney was careful not to even think of winning the [BLEEP] all but each tally made him that much more excited. 

On the ice Geno was just out of the box, stepping right into the middle of the play instead of hanging back. A miscalculation on the Capitals’ part, and a dangerous one too, because now Geno is up high alone-- and he’s got the puck. Geno practically streams up the ice, his dark wings tucked in tight against his body to reduce the drag. Sidney has been watching Geno, playing next to him, reading the way he moved for almost two years now. Knew Geno’s play style with the instinct that came with hard work and natural on-ice chemistry. There was a tell, the quiver of his primaries on both sides, just a couple of seconds before he snapped his wings out. Black and white feathers against the white and gold of his jersey. The sudden shift of momentum allowed him to pivot, flared out for balance as his stick snapped the puck up high and just over the shoulder of the goalie.

The defence chasing him clipped the edge of his flared wing as they went by causing him to wobble but the goal light was already on. Victorious was a good look on him, Geno screaming drowned out by the crowd leaping to its feet cheering, a solid wall of sound coming from all directions. Sidney was on his feet too, already leaning over the board without thought, as if his body wanted instinctively closer. The team all gloves out for the victory tap as Geno skated up. The faint bump of Geno’s hand against his as he skated down the line collecting his congratulations had Sidney smiling. A good goal. 

After his shift, Geno returned to his spot next to Sid on the bench, leaning forward on his forearms, stick clutched in his elbow and breathing hard. Sidney watched him out of the corner of his eye, trying to be attentive to the ice, and just caught the edge of the lopsided smile aimed at him. He nudged Geno with his shoulder and the other man nudged him back, expression turning playful. 

Sidney snorted, and turned back to the game. 

The playoffs were long and each team tried out different strategies to balance the punishing pace with the urgency of each win. They were up, but Sidney couldn’t afford to lose his usually iron-clad control over his focus. Every shift, every pass mattered and could be used as an example for the next game. As captain he needed to pay attention. Geno shifted next to him, settling as he slowly cooled down in preparation for the next launch over the boards. The other team was slowly eroding under the constant pressure. Sidney leaned over to Jordan to tell him about the little insights he had picked up while Jordan nodded vaguely, eyes glued to the action in front and more than used to Sidney’s constant commentary. 

Alone in his hotel room after the game, energy still buzzing under his skin from the win. The way the media afterwards kept trying to get him to spill what he thought their chances of winning the cup was, it left him off balance in a way media scrums were usually just part of the daily routine. _Every win is another tally, you just got to go into every game without thinking about the last one_. 

He should sleep. 

That would be the smart, responsible thing to do. 

He was captain now, and needed to do the smart, responsible things. 

Geno answered the phone with a muffled distracted noise, there was the low hum of voices around him, the pop-pop of tv gunfire. Sidney thought again about the responsible thing. He was going to do that, apologize for bothering Geno, hang up, look through some tape and sleep. 

“Want to come over?” Sidney said. 

Geno paused for a moment that seemed too long. Left Sidney sitting there shirtless in his game-day slacks on his king sized hotel bed anticipation turning the restless energy under his skin into a slow burning heat. 

“Ok.” Geno replied, voice pitched low, conspiratory. Sidney’s sigh was hopefully too quiet to pick up on the other end. “Soon.” 

“Cool.” The line clicked and Sidney put down the hotel phone, said a quick goodbye to his good intentions and sense of responsibility. 

The lube was in his suitcase, tucked in with the condoms, He had given up on carrying the individual use ones and just brought the whole tube these days. Those went on the bedside table and Sidney retreated to the bathroom to brush his teeth and wash his face. 

Thoughts of Geno’s glossy wings, flaring open under the padding that protected the delicate joints kept slipping through the monotony of his nightly routine. The amount of coordination and control he had to move his wings and arms in such precise and subtle movements. The release of his shots. Endless legs as he rocked back and forth on his skates, smiling at Sidney when their eyes met. The muscle attachments along the scapula usually meant that most either used one or the other. Similar to the sensation of brushing your teeth or jerking it with your off hand, the dexterity just wasn’t the same. 

Geno strutting around naked in the changing room, coyly flashing the softer white scapular feathers. Honestly, Sidney’s good intentions didn’t last through that last goal. Geno got him hot in ways not even the most stunningly gorgeous bar hookup couldn’t - the lust was deeper, it was in his bones and in his chest, reacting to the weird little things Geno did and not just the shape of him. He couldn’t quite explain it if asked, beyond watching Geno play hockey sometimes made him indescribably horny. 

Then again, so too did catching sight of the back of his neck adorned with his shiny chains when he was hunched forward playing poker with the guys on the plane. A mystery. 

The knock on his door came faster than he anticipated even if he was waiting for it. 

Unsurprisingly it was Geno, slouched in his low-riding sweat pants and a white T-shirt. He wasn’t even wearing shoes for the trip down the hall, colorful socks drawing attention. 

Sidney couldn’t help the fond smile as he pulled him inside. Geno looked startled as he was manhandled into place, pushed up against the cool door so that it closed hard enough to echo. Geno’s hands came up automatically, curling around Sidney’s waist palms hot against his bare skin, holding them both steady before Sidney’s eagerness could unbalance them. Geno was grinning at him, eyebrows drawn up playfully. 

“I didn’t want to waste time.” Sidney explained, pressing the words right against Geno’s throat where he still smelled of soap from his post game shower. A familiar and soothing smell. Sidney pressed a smacking kiss there because it made Geno laugh, the rumble of it palpable where Sidney had his palm pressed right against Geno’s chest. “Just want you.” 

Geno settled under his hands, long legs spreading slightly so Sidney could settle between them better, which functionally slid him down the door so that when they kissed it was almost level. Sidney slid his hand behind Geno’s head, cupping the curve of his skull into his palm and using a soft touch to keep Geno’s mouth right next to his even when their kisses broke, breathing the same air before inevitably joining again soft and slick. 

A mouth like that was made for kissing, there was no other way to explain it, Geno’s lips were soft against Sidney’s dry ones. His tongue fucking lazily into Sidney’s mouth like there was literally nothing else he would rather be doing. He always kissed like this was the end game, like it wasn’t just a stop on the way to desperately fucking. Geno made these little pleased hums when Sidney was kissing him and it drove him crazy. Made him want to turn their kisses deep and slick while Geno seemed content to take his time. 

Sidney got his way when he slid his hand up under Geno’s shirt, across the soft definition of his abs until his palm was resting over one of Geno’s pecs, just feeling the warmth against his palm, the slight give of muscle under skin. Geno tugged him a little closer, melting against the door and letting Sidney kiss him as hard as he wanted. Big palms shifted until they were cupping his ass instead of his waist and Sidney pushed back slightly against it, fingers digging in for a breathless second before just rubbing against the seam of his pants. 

Sidney groaned into the kiss, finally turning his head to the side. His pants were too tight for Geno’s fingers to rub the fabric over his hole, but it tightened the fabric across his dick and teased at the thought. Geno tilted his head obligingly, not one to ignore such an appealing invitation Sidney pressed a kiss just below his ear. Felt the faint scrape of his scraggly facial hair along Geno’s skin in a way that was still unfamiliar. Geno, like many of the Russian players, didn’t believe in the playoff beard. It was smooth where he was letting his wet lips drag over the muscles in Geno’s neck, letting the familiar sounds of Geno’s pendants shifting against each other light something unnamed in his chest. 

Geno breathed deep, Sidney’s hand rising and falling with the motion, he pressed a wet kiss against the solid rise of Geno’s trap muscle, resisting the sudden urge to bite down. Maybe he could convince Geno to let him do it before he went back to Russia and didn’t need to worry about being chirped in the changing room for the inevitable marks. 

Geno’s hands shifted from his ass to the belt of his slacks, tugging roughly until it gave way. The buckle clinked as Geno managed to unzip him enough to slip his hand into Sidney’s pants. He grunted, hips shifting forward to press his half-hard dick against Geno’s warm palm. 

“Bed?” Geno asked, pressing a quick kiss to Sidney’s temple. The oddly gentle move sent a shiver racing down Sidney’s spine and he shifted on his feet. Probably because of the faint rub of Geno’s fingertips against the base of his cock through the cotton of his underwear. 

Moving was more difficult when Sidney was unwilling to fully let go of any part of Geno, pressing kisses against his mouth between steps and hands following the lines uncovered by every piece of shed clothing. Geno, as was his devastating habit, wasn’t wearing underwear under his sweats, dick right there, fitting nicely into Sidney’s hand as he swallowed the hungry sound Geno made in response. Sidney had no idea how it was comfortable, but it was undeniably hot that he could just reach in and right there was Geno’s dick, or the smooth skin of his ass. 

Eventually they managed to fall onto the bed, at an awkward angle across the corner. Geno clung to Sidney’s shoulders as he nearly slid right off again. Sidney rolled them over until there was no more danger, both of them lying on their sides, diagonal across the bed looking at each other. Geno’s face was flushed, a hectic blush on his face, loose curls curls all in disarray from Sidney’s hands. There were faint pink blotches on his shoulders from Sidney’s mouth, already fading. Geno leered, looking Sidney up and down, post-season lean, scattered bruises from three intensely physical games. Sidney couldn’t help the urge to puff his chest out just a little, abs tightening into definition while Geno laughed at him. 

Before Sidney could get offended Geno was rolling towards him, half over him, Sidney’s left wing caught awkwardly under him but Geno’s mouth was on his again and suddenly that didn’t matter. 

Caught somewhere between wrestling and making out, Sidney was trying not to laugh while Geno wriggled around over him, naked and warm lazily trying to pin Sidney down. He was breathing hard by the time he managed to get on top, sitting on Geno’s thighs, palms on his chest so Geno would need to work to get up. Knowing Geno he wouldn’t, he lay there, practically a rag-doll as he stared at Sidney from under his dark eyelashes. When he lost he always acted as if it was his idea to be there. 

This time when Sidney puffed up a bit Geno didn’t laugh, but the smile he gave was absolutely filthy. Sidney shifted, letting Geno’s hairy thighs rub against the soft skin on his ass for the little sparks of sensation. 

“Fuck me.” Geno demanded, doing absolutely nothing to help, just lying there expecting Sidney to do as he demanded. Sidney, because he was horny and easy for Geno nodded, “okay.” 

There was a small voice that sounded a lot like Gonch complaining that this was why Geno was so spoiled. People always just gave him what he wanted, he was a force of nature and something about his casual self-confidence meant that most were often jumping to do his bidding. Sidney was perhaps a little worse than the others about it, being self aware of the problem did nothing to stop him from giving in time and time again. The look Geno gave him was deeply satisfied. 

Sidney climbed off of him to reach for his supplies. 

“Roll.” Sidney tapped Geno’s hip until he flopped over onto his front with a flurry of feathers and lanky limbs. Geno let his knees slide apart on the bedding. Sidney’s throat went a little dry, heartbeat kicking up a notch nearly overwhelmed with the heat coursing through him. Geno was a picture, the perfect muscular curve of his ass stark white under his fading tan line. Less sharp now than it was at the beginning of the season. Two greedy handfuls, Sidney squeezed, just enjoying the give of fat and muscle under his grip. Everything about Geno looked like it was stretched out, like he had been intended to be smaller but kept growing out of spite. The sheet length of his spine, the kilometers of legs. 

The dip of his spine was endless, tiny waist flaring out towards his broad shoulders, dipping slightly as he kept himself up on hands and knees. Sidney caught the flashes of his necklaces under his hair as Geno let his head hang forward. Sidney dug his fingers in, Geno flexed and clenched, body shifting under Sidney’s hands hypnotically. Sidney leaned back a little, spreading Geno’s cheeks to expose the tight little pucker of his hole. 

Geno groaned, dipping down onto his elbows and rocking his hips back into Sidney’s hands impatiently. An irrefutable argument and a taunt all in one. Sidney laughed, smacked him with one hand, open palmed and just enough to startle. Geno clenched all over, every muscle pulling into definition for one breathtaking second. 

Geno gave him an intense side-eye over his shoulder so Sidney made a production of getting his fingers slick to pacify. Geno arranged himself so it was easier to watch Sidney over his shoulder. Eyes fluttering while Sidney rubbed his wet fingers over the outside just teasing the sensitive nerves. Slipping one finger inside the tight clutch of Geno’s body got him an enthusiastic groan. Sidney watched the subtle shift of skin and soft tissue in Geno’s back shift as he squirmed. Muscle attachments to his spine thin and tight along his lower back and flaring out from his ribs up higher. The complicated mess of tendons and joints where his wings joined his body. 

Geno’s wings flared when Sidney pushed his finger deeper, shifting outward to display the brilliant white of his scapular features. Usually hidden like a secret by the black coverts. The ends of his primaries were also white, delicately outlined in black to match the rest. He shivered all over when Sidney pushed a second finger in trying to be delicate but not doing the best job of it. The way Geno twitched, moaning when Sidney pushed him a little too fast was too addictive. Embarrassingly desperate after a bit of low-level foreplay, as if he never grew out of his teenage years. 

Geno was surprisingly obliging tonight, letting Sidney finger him until he was boneless on the bed, rocking back against his hand gently and shivering with each pointed rub over his prostate. 

“Sid.” Geno grunted, this look was more pleading than demanding, his face was flushed, elbows down and knees spread. Sidney wasn’t able to resist the urge to flare his own wings out a little, the shadow of them blocking the light for a moment. Geno’s expression did something odd, before Sidney could try and work it out Geno had turned back forward. The dip of his spine accented with the way he pushed insistently back onto Sidney was instruction enough. 

Sitting back on his heels, Sidney wiped his hands on the cloth he stole from the bathroom and snagged the condom. 

Geno’s body was tight despite his best effort at relaxing, Sidney slid his free hand up his spine, tucking the webbing between his thumb and index finger around the join of his left wing to steady himself. The feathers here were soft, the skin sensitive. The other he used to press the round head of his dick to the shiny pucker of Geno’s hole. Felt it give just the slightest for a moment. Sidney pulled back and tried again, constant pressure causing Geno’s body to open up for him. 

Sidney hissed, breath shaking through his chest as he pressed deeper and deeper, Geno letting him inside with a low groan. Pressed thigh to thigh, Sidney took a moment to let the rush of sensation move through him without focusing on anything in particular. That dizzying moment when all he could think was that this was _Geno_ under him, in his hands, letting him fuck those hot little noises out of him. 

Settled, Sidney shifted back, forcing Geno’s ass at a better angle, spread his wings for balance and got to work.

Maybe it had something to do with the fact that his type was lanky and cocky, or maybe it was because when he pressed his hands against Geno’s shoulders he thought of the power behind his slapshot, the meat of his thighs in long gliding strides across the ice. The explosive speed when he was splitting the defence, circling around them almost lazily. When he sucked on Geno’s fingers those were the same hands with wicked little drop passes, handling the puck like the defence wasn’t even there. That left him near desperate to be as close as possible when they did this. Geno’s entire body was a tool, a testament to what it took to be a professional hockey player. 

Geno shifted, going tight with a pleased hum when the angle was just right for him. Sidney dug his fingers into Geno’s hip, using it to anchor him in place while his other hand slipped up from his wing joints to hook across his shoulder. Better leverage to pull Geno back on his cock. Fucked him deep while Geno babbled at him in Russian and writhed on the bed as if trying to break Sidney’s hold on him. Demanding to be held tighter. 

He was a little worked up from the game and whatever it was about Geno that made it so hard to hold himself back. “Touch yourself.” Sidney was not above begging. He was embarrassingly into this, couldn’t quite get over the adolescent thrill of getting his dick wet. He had the stamina to skate well into triple overtime but balls deep in Geno felt like a fight not to get immediately overwhelmed. 

“Sid, Sid, _Sid_.” Geno chanted. The hand Sidney had on Geno’s shoulder could feel the rhythmic movement of his arm. Knew he had to have one hand wrapped around his pretty dick, stroking it. Sidney wanted to watch, he wanted to press his fingers into Geno’s fluffy scapular feathers and bite his broad shoulders. 

“Yeah, just like that.” He mumbled mindlessly, losing control of the even pace, the heat in his blood was peaking. It drove him faster, the tight heat sending electricity that raced up and down his spine, settled low in his balls and left him teetering right in the edge of orgasm. By this point there was no stopping it, no control left. 

Sidney curled forward over Geno, his own panting drowned out by the skin on skin sound of their thighs and the unmuffled and extremely vocal sound of Geno’s pleasure. He shivered, felt it start in his core and expand outwards, toes curled as his body went tense, pushing himself as deep as he could go into Geno’s body. Balls tight and tender, joining the blaze of sensation rushing through him. 

Sidney moaned, still for only a moment before he began to grind forward, fingers clutching Geno tighter as he tried to fuck his come as deep into him as he could. Even that thought was devastating, adding to the roar in Sidney’s head. It drew on and on, sensations running up and down his spine with every shift, threatening to overwhelm him. For long moments as he could only breathe through it, too lost in the sensation for any higher thought process. 

“Yes, good. More, I love.” Geno said, barely comprehensive between crooning Russian. Sidney’s already tender chest twisted, warmth rushing through him like he wanted to come again. Maybe on a different night he would try it, but in the wake of his orgasm the buzzing energy was gone and he was suddenly exhausted. 

Still, Sidney curled closer over Geno’s back, so he could press kisses along the ridge of his spine, the skin just under one wing. This close he could feel the shaking of them from the motion of Geno’s hand on his dick, stiff secondary feathers shifted, brushing along Sidney's hair. Black, not quite iridescent up close. 

“I want to feel it when you come.” Sidney said, voice oddly rough. 

Geno jerked under him, a Russian curse cutting off whatever he had been saying before. 

The few moments allowed the overwhelming rush of his nerves to settle so he shifted carefully, fucking into Geno shallowly. It ached, but in a good way, Sidney chewed on his bottom lip absently completely focused on the way Geno was beginning babble, obviously right on the edge. The rush of pleasure was different than the residual zing of electricity under his skin, this was something more primal. Closer to the sensation of winning a game, of coming out on top after a close game. Pleasure seated in his mind and not in the delicate network of nerves in his dick. 

Geno got quiet as he came, the silence almost louder than Geno’s unstoppable mouth. 

Sidney blanketed him the best he could, fucking him through the screech of oversensitivity, breathing fast right along side of him while Geno’s wings flared and shivered. 

They collapsed in a heap, too used to being sweaty and close to be bothered by it. Sidney tossed the condom, the sound of it hitting the garbage bag was just a little pleasing bonus. 

“Sid.” Geno sighed, spread out on his stomach still, looking at Sidney from his folded arms, half of his pink face peeking out. He looked well fucked and lazy. Sidney smiled back, helpless to do anything else. 

\--

“I want to start building a house this summer.” Sidney said calmly. Nathalie startled visibly over her cooking. 

“Oh?” 

That thought was easier to deal with than the thought that this might be the year. They had kept winning and now the final loomed huge in front of them, only the Red Wings between them and the Cup. It was difficult to avoid dwelling on it, to give into the almost manic hope that filled every meeting they had, every tape session. The guys feed off of and into the group energy. To dwell on it too long would be to curse it so Sidney focused on the other niggling thought. 

“What brought this on?” Nathalie blinked at him, her face held her usual press smile, absent like she wasn’t even thinking about the gentle quirk of her mouth. It was her default expression when she was unsure of something. He could see her thinking and wondered why it seemed so surprising. 

He was an adult wasn’t he? 

Okay, the idea settled oddly in his mind, both anticipatory and dreadful. He didn’t like the idea of upsetting his routines, there would be so much to do. Hiring cleaners and cooking more for himself seemed like a lot of work when it was so easy to leave that up to someone else. He had never lived alone before, he didn’t mind silence but he preferred there to be people he could talk to. It had always just made sense to stay with someone who already had a home set up. A lot of the guys lived on their own or with a roommate. 

That didn’t sit right either. He didn’t _want_ a roommate. He wanted to build this for himself. 

“It just felt like it was time.” He said eventually. Also not quite sure how to put the sensation into words. 

“Are you worried about the finals?” She asked, delicately, years and years of hockey players had left her uniquely prepared to deal with their quirks and superstitions. This was the first time she had mentioned the cupit to him, obliquely as she had, and he was deeply thankful for it. Sidney had stopped going out into the city entirely, each ‘you’re going to win this year!’ too much. 

“A little.” 

“This isn’t about that then.” She replied agreeably and turned her back to the series of pots bubbling on the stove, the kitchen smelled flagrantly of spices and something rich being reduced. She was silent for a moment, working through the problem. “The summer is going to be pretty short, do you want me to start looking into contractors for you?”

A small part of him wanted to do it himself, a millennia of instinct to build, to _nest_ , rooted in some primal part of his brain. The world didn’t work that way and honestly he was really only good at one thing. He wouldn’t know the first thing about building a house. 

“Yeah thanks, that would be great.” Grateful for her help. 

She smiled at him over her shoulder, and for a moment it seemed like maybe that was it. Not actually some huge notable moment, just another perfectly normal domestic conversation. The banality of it went a long way into soothing some of the tension. He has built up the confession into something more in his head. 

“May I ask you something?” She turned back to her cooking again instead of looking at him, which meant it was probably going to be a bit uncomfortable. Sidney tensed, considered denying he didn’t want anything that would be too upsetting right now. She would abide by his decision. Not knowing would be worse. 

“Of course.” He responded. 

“I’ve seen many young men now.” Her profile showed an impish smile and Sidney shifted on his feet with a snort. “It’s a lot of work to deal with eh, more brawn than sense.” He couldn’t refute that, she wasn’t wrong. Hockey sense rarely had anything to do with common sense. 

“I’m sure it’s a lot of food.” He replied dryly, missing her point on purpose. 

Nathalie gave him a mock irritated look from the corner of her eye before she went back to rearranging her spoons on the stove top again. “No one believes me when I say you’re a brat.” She sighed. Sidney laughed, he was sure his mother would agree with her, it was a good thing they didn’t speak much at all. He wasn’t sure he would survive that tag team. “Anyways, I just wanted to know, has someone caught your eye?” 

Sidney stilled. 

What? 

“Uh.” 

The implications felt like a check from behind, sudden and more than enough to knock the breath from his chest if he wasn’t careful. 

Nathalie continued not to look at him, letting him work through his response in his own mind. _Nesting_. She was asking him if he was nesting. 

“Uh, no. I’m not really serious with anyone right now.” He said eventually. Geno was the closest to something regular, they hung out and fucked in between bar-hookups and home games. It wasn’t like he was trying to build them a home. Sometimes when they woke up from spectacular pre-nap orgasms Sidney would preen some of the most disarrayed of Geno’s feathers like he didn’t know Geno had a very expensive spa to do it for him. But they weren’t courting or anything like that. 

“Okay, that should make it easier to build.” She turned to look at him, blue eyes creased with her smile. Real now. “when it happens you will have it.”

“Of course, it is good to look towards the future.” Sidney said automatically, the words came out sounding like a synonym of ‘we need to take more shots on goal’. 

\--

There wasn’t even space in his head for the thought that he wished this had happened at home in the Mellon. Nothing but the roar of the crowd and the indescribable pride that shook through him as he roared victoriously with them loud enough his exhausted lungs _ached_ with it. The crush of his teammates should have been suffocating, instead the sweaty men and gear piling on him screamed team, flock, comfort. Feathers and jersey material in his eyes and mouth. 

Sidney laughed, chest tight from being squished and the pure fizzling joy. 

They _did it_. They fucking did it. At once surreal and too real. Every emotion so bright it should have been uncomfortable. He felt like he was drunk and was stone cold sober all at once. Drenched in sweat, lying on the ice and still overheated. 

Unlike Geno who used his wings to play Sidney rarely, if ever, used his. It threw off defencemen who were used to fleet footed forwards using them as drag when they needed to stop. There was always a tell if someone was paying attention. Unlike Geno’s light, angled wings Sidney’s were unwieldy large, wingspan wide like the rest of him. Pale brown, the edges of each feather lined with cream, the very tips of his primaries darker than the rest. Wings made for tireless long distance migration. 

When he lifted the cup, helmet discarded on the ice, his wings flared out as wide as they could go, balancing him and flapping as he lifted it above his head with a shout. 

Later, soaked through with a mix of beer and champagne, in a new hat and t-shirt in the visiting change room Sidney was still smiling so hard it made his face hurt. Surrounded by his team Sidney allowed people to jostle him, arms hooking around his neck in a constant stream as he was pressed against someone else for a moment. Taking another spray of alcohol to the face here and there. 

Staalsy was almost bouncing, bottle of champagne clenched in one hand, caught Talbo in the crook of his elbow the two of them yelling incoherently at each other. Flower, Tanger and Duper were still shouting at each other in French, breaking into snatches of song that Sidney couldn’t quite place. Familiar from playing in Quebec for so long, but not enough to dedicate any of his focus on. Kuni and Adams, normally on their quieter side, were fully lit up with the excitement crushing a can of beer each. 

“Sid.” Geno said, just to his left, pulling every ounce of Sidney’s attention to him with a swiftness that left Sidney almost shaken. 

Wearing nothing but his compression shorts, backwards hat and slides Geno was grinning at him. He was sticky all over with sweat and alcohol, the flyaway bits of his hair plastered to the sides of his face. There were still red patches all over his skin, lines from his gear and from being playfully smacked by so many hands. Eyes almost unnaturally bright, a can of beer clenched in his hand. For a moment Sidney thought he might dump it over his head the way Orpik had done only moments ago, leaving Sidney sputtering, drinking what slid down the sides of his face. 

“We win.” Geno shouted at him, louder and clearer than the background wall of sound and the stunned static in his brain. The people nearest heard this and cheered, setting off another wave that echoed through the room packed with staff. 

Sidney thought the warmth filling his chest and stomach were at its maximum, like he couldn’t possibly fit another emotion inside of him. He was wrong. 

Geno, flushed and victorious, universally acknowledged as the most valuable. Despite the lingering sweetness of alcohol on his tongue, Sidney’s mouth went dry. He wanted, a yearning that opened inside of him like a black hole. 

The perfect moment made better as soon as Geno said his name. 

The shine of the chains around his neck, Sidney wanted to buy him one. The brightest metals he could find. _Sidney was building this man a house._

The revelation shook him to his core, rearranged some fundamental aspects of himself without his permission in a way that felt like this was the way things were meant to be. This moment was the condensation of years of fantasy. 

He didn’t need to do anything about it now, just the knowledge was enough. He grinned back wide, felt his face flushing blush probably visible on his face. 

“We did it. We fucking won.” Sidney agreed. He meant, ‘I think I love you.’ Honestly, it sounded the same to him. 

\--

“I get gift.” Geno said over the phone. 

Sidney stilled. He was standing on the deck of his rented cabin, giving himself the usual week off before he went back to training, promotions, local hockey school, touching base with all his old friends and relatives.

“Do you like it?” Sidney asked, voice steady. 

Out on the water weeds grew along the sides, the blue sky and the near blinding reflection of the sun. A rare perfect day in the Maritimes. The scream of cicadas in the background announcing it was summer to everyone with ears. He collapsed into the aged Adirondack chair, pressing his cordless phone to his ear. The wood was hot even through his shirt and shorts, a soothing comfort. 

He tried not to be nervous. He had spent forever picking out the right thing. Then a few more days looking at it before he put it in the mail. It was horrible to look at, gaudy and bright. Small diamonds worked into the weave of the chains, large enough to fit around Geno’s solid wrist. It hadn’t even been that obscenely expensive. Actually it was. He was getting better at coming to terms with the boggling number of zeroes after his pay cheque which made the bracelet pale in comparison. Then he had to try and be casual asking Gonch how to get it to Geno summering on the other side of the Atlantic ocean. 

That had been an interesting conversation. Apparently, they were not subtle. Or quiet. Both of these things Sidney objectively knew, but it was different coming from Gonch’s dry eastern European humour. Curiously undisturbed that the whole team knew they were having sex. That they knew he could make Geno shout with his mouth on his asshole. That they had ruined the bedding in hotels from LA to Montreal. 

Geno was silent for long enough that Sidney’s heartbeat picked up against his will. Nerves settling in the pit of his stomach. His epiphany had been earth shattering, but it did leave him feeling vulnerable in a way he wasn’t used to. A life lived in singular dedication, and utter confidence in himself. Sidney breathed, careful to keep it quiet, to listen to the faintest crackle of static as Geno’s voice was somehow flung across an ocean to his ears. 

Every second seemed to drag on for minutes, Sidney’s long distance phone bill racking up and his nerves suffering. 

“I do love.” Geno said, but it still sounded a little off, not quite the confession scene from romance movies, maybe because they weren’t able to fall into bed immediately for some awkward PG-13 humping. Sidney waited, sure that there _had_ to be more.

“Expensive present.” Geno said, in an unfamiliar tone. Geno never sounded cautious. He ran directly into things with a stubborn streak a mile wide and expected the world to conform to his will. 

He sounded like maybe Geno had exposed his vulnerability a long time ago and Sidney hadn’t noticed. The way Geno was always there had just been a given fact of the universe, and he had accepted that. 

“Wait until you see the house I’m going to build you.” 

Geno sputtered while Sidney smiled gently at the surface of the water. 

“Serious?” Geno sounded hopeful, the way he did when he was speaking through a wide smile. 

The construction crew had broken dirt already.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading all the way to the end! I hope you enjoyed it goodnightpuckbunny 
> 
> Also a big thank you to the moderators who make this possible, and to my beta A. 
> 
> Please don't ask me how shirts work in this universe. If I think about it too long it stresses me out, or if birds exist and what creature fills that ecologic niche if they don't. Geno's wings are based on the title bird, the Eurasian Magpie, and Sidney is the Branta canadensis, commonly known as the Canada goose.


End file.
